


The Truth Hurts

by orphan_account



Series: Little White Lies [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pining Enjolras, Pining Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras didn’t know what to do.</p><p>Now, there might be some who would be shocked to learn that he didn’t have a plan for every detail of his life, but there were times, such as this, where he had absolutely no idea what to do.</p><p>He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what he should do.</p><p>The problem was that those two things were not the same.</p><p>An AU of my Little White Lies story that explores what might have happened if Enjolras decided to take action after he realized he was in love with Grantaire in college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my head for a while and I had to write it out. The next chapter of Little White Lies is in the works!

Enjolras didn’t know what to do.

Now, there might be some who would be shocked to learn that he didn’t have a plan for every detail of his life, but there were times, such as this, where he had absolutely no idea what to do.

He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what he should do.

The problem was that those two things were not the same.

“Earth to Enjolras? Hello! Are you in there?” Courfeyrac said, waving a hand in front of his face and breaking him out of his thoughts.

He frowned as he realized the movie had gone off and Courfeyrac and Combeferre were staring at him in concern. It was just the three of them tonight, as everyone else was busy. It was a night Enjolras had been looking forward to, as it was rare to spend time with just the two of them anymore, especially since Combeferre went to MIT while he and Courfeyrac attended Harvard. But for once Combeferre didn’t have a pressing project he was working on and Courfeyrac didn’t have a play to be rehearsing and Enjolras didn’t have a paper due, so they all were able to spend some quality time together.

He shouldn’t ruin the night by spacing out.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Combeferre frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Ordinarily he would brush the question aside. He had never been very good at talking about his feelings. To be honest, he wasn’t really good at recognizing them either. The situation he was in now was completely foreign to him.

He wanted his friends’ opinions. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had been his best friends since they took pity on the introverted homeschooled kid that he was in prep school and befriended him. They knew him better than he knew himself most of the time. Maybe they would help him come to a solution better than the only one he could come up with.

“I’m having some… relationship issues,” he said uncertainly, not knowing if that was the right term to use.

His best friends shared a serious look before giving him their full attention.

“What kind of relationship issues?” Combeferre asked calmly.

“Did Aiden do something?” Courfeyrac asked with a little more heat behind his words.

Enjolras sighed and shook head. “Not really. I mean, if anything, I’m the one at fault here.”

Combeferre frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t think I love him anymore. I’m not sure if I ever did,” he confessed, looking down at his hands.

Saying it aloud made him feel terrible. God, how many times had Aiden told him that he loved him? How many times had he whispered it into his skin as he sunk into Enjolras’ body? He felt like a terrible person for not really meaning the words when he said it back to Aiden, had tried to make up for it by letting him do whatever he wanted sexually, no matter how uncomfortable it made Enjolras at times, but he was sure it wasn’t enough.

He had thought that it was just how he was. Had thought that maybe his parents’ coldness had been passed down to him, making him incapable of feeling real love, but he had been wrong.

The minute he laid eyes on Grantaire after the summer break he knew he had been wrong.

Because not even his own emotional ineptness could prevent him from knowing that he was in love with Grantaire. Probably had been for a long time if he were honest with himself.

And to let Aiden continue to believe that he loved him made him feel like just like the uncaring monsters he accused his parents of being.

“I have to go,” he stated, standing up suddenly and moving towards the door.

“Enjolras, wait!” they called, jumping up and reaching to stop him.

“Don’t do anything rash,” Combeferre warned.

He shook his head. “This isn’t rash,” he explained. “This is something I should’ve done a long time ago. I don’t want to be like my parents. If I stay with Aiden just because I don’t want to be alone, then I’m using him just like my parents always used me.”

After a moment of consideration, they both nodded and let go of him.

“If you’re sure you want this,” Combeferre said slowly, giving him an out if he wanted.

He smiled sadly and nodded. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Okay,” Courfeyrac said before giving him a stern look. “But you know that you’ll never be alone, right? We will always be here for you. You couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”

Combeferre nodded in agreement and he gave them both a true smile.

“Thank you,” he said before slipping out the door.

It wasn’t that far of a walk to Aiden’s apartment and the cool autumn night was refreshing so he bypassed his car and continued on foot.

Was he doing the right thing? Or was he just being selfish?

But wasn’t it selfish to stay in a relationship with someone he didn’t love? Aiden deserved someone to be in a relationship with someone who loved him. And he deserved to be in a relationship with someone he loved.

It seemed so simple when he thought about it in those terms.

Of course, there was no guarantee that he had a shot with being with Grantaire, but there was a better chance than if he just stayed with Aiden.

And if he would rather be with Grantaire than Aiden, then he shouldn’t be with Aiden anyway.

He was completely resolved when he reached Aiden’s building and took the stairs to his second-floor unit. When he left the apartment, he would be single.

It was a thrilling feeling. It was almost like he was taking control of his life for the first time. Maybe he was. His parents had always been rather controlling growing up, and Aiden kind of swept him away as soon as he began college.

He wasn’t even sure how they stayed together so long. If he were frank, he had never really enjoyed spending time with his boyfriend. He always felt uncomfortable and off-balanced. In the beginning, he thought those feelings were just nerves, but they hadn’t gone away. And by the time he realized that, they had already been dating for so long that he felt bad ending things.

But enough was enough. He deserved to be happy, and this relationship didn’t make him happy.

He knocked on the door and took a deep calming breath before it was open and Aiden stood before him.

“Enjolras? What are you doing here?” he said with a frown.

“Can we talk?”

His frown deepened as he stared at Enjolras for a moment before sighing in resignation. “I suppose,” he replied, turning and walking back into the apartment, leaving the door open for Enjolras to follow.

They didn’t go far, as Aiden turned as soon as Enjolras was into the foyer with the door shut and folded his arms. “So what’s so important that you had to come over tonight?”

Aiden wasn’t making this easy for him. But then, he didn’t really deserve this to be made easy for him.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began, seeing no need to beat around the bush. “And I really don’t think we should continue to see each other.”

Aiden raised an eyebrow coolly. “Are you trying to break up with me?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“Yes,” he replied apologetically. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve probably led you on, but I don’t think we’re—ah!” he cried sharply as he was cut off by a stinging backhand to his face.

“We aren’t breaking up,” Aiden said simply, looking unbothered by Enjolras’ shocked expression.

Enjolras took a steadying breath before standing up straight. “Yes, we are,” he stated firmly, only to receive another slap to the face. He glared up at Aiden. “Slapping me around is not convincing me to change my mind,” he snapped angrily. If a few slaps were enough to control him, his father would have been able to keep him under his thumb forever.

Before he could even process Aiden’s movements, though, he was suddenly pinned against the wall with a strong hand cutting off his air supply.

“Then maybe you need a firmer hand,” he hissed, pressing harder into Enjolras’ windpipe.

Icy fear settled over him as he stared into hazel eyes sparkling with malicious intent. He gasped fruitlessly for air, his vision blackening on the edges. He vaguely heard Aiden chuckle, the sound oddly muffled, as if cotton was stuffed in his ears.

Abruptly, the hand around his throat was taken away, only for his hair to be gripped tightly and used to throw him roughly to the floor. He landed heavily on his hands and knees, coughing and struggling desperately to get air into his lungs.

The first kick came as a surprise to him, causing him to fall over on his side and hit his head hard on the tiled floor.

“Please!” he rasped helplessly as the kicks continued. “Stop!”

Aiden laughed as he delivered a final kick, which caused a sharp snap that Enjolras felt more than heard. He groaned as he was nudged onto his back and closed his eyes against the bright light framing Aiden’s crouched form above him.

“Look at me!” he ordered, slapping his face once more. He smirked as Enjolras cracked his eyes open. “You belong to me, do you understand? The only way you’re getting out of this relationship is if I say so. You should feel lucky. Who else would want a pathetic thing like you? Now pick yourself up and get out of here.”

Aiden walked away, leaving him lying there panting in pain. It was getting difficult to breath and his vision was swimming, but he slowly eased himself up and stood, the world going dark for a moment or two at first, causing him to grasp the wall desperately for support.

Fighting back tears of pain that only made his vision worse, he fumbled with the door before he stumbled out into the cool night air. He held tightly to the railing as he walked down the stairs, but still ended up tripping over his own feet and tumbling down the last couple of steps, his ankle twisting painfully and his head colliding with the unyielding brick wall.

Well, at least he couldn’t always use the ‘I fell down the stairs’ excuse and not be lying.

He chuckled at the thought, which quickly developed into a full-blown laugh. On some level, he was aware that he was becoming slightly hysterical, but considering his boyfriend just beat the crap out of him because he wanted to break up, he decided hysterics were probably appropriate.

Soon sobs began to be intermingled with the laughter before the laughter was gone altogether.

God, he was pathetic. He was sitting at the bottom of his (ex?) boyfriend’s stairs, sobbing and unable to move. He coughed as he tried to get the sobbing under control, breathing still a laborious task.

He frowned down at his hand, which was now covered in red flecks. He coughed some more and more red appeared.

This wasn’t good, he knew, but his head was spinning so much that he couldn’t think of what he was supposed to do. He wanted so badly just to close his eyes and sleep, but a voice inside of him was screaming that he had to stay awake.

Help. He needed help.

With supreme effort, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Frowning at the lock screen for a moment, he finally remembered that he had to slide his finger across the screen. Frustrated tears streamed down his face as that brought him to the passcode screen.

He couldn’t remember the code. It was so hard to think…

He stared at the screen a moment longer before he noticed the emergency option. He gave a cry of relief as he pressed it and was brought to a number pad screen.

Oh, God, what was the number?

He took a painfully shaky and shallow breath as he tried to remember. This was an easy one. He knew this…

He closed his eyes momentarily before jerking them open. Closing his eyes was bad. He couldn’t do that.

In a moment of clarity, he punched in 9-1-1 on the phone and tried to clear his head as the phone rang.

“911, what is your emergency?” a calm female voice answered.

“My boyfriend…” he gasped out. “Hit me… I can’t breathe…”

“Sir, can you tell me where you are?”

“I’m at the bottom of the stairs,” he replied faintly, fighting hard to keep his lids from closing. It was important that he stay awake. He didn’t know why though…

“Are you still in danger?”

“I’m so tired…” he answered instead, needing her to understand even if he didn’t understand himself.

“I know, sir, but I need you to stay with me. I have an ambulance in route to your location.”

“Please hurry,” he whispered.

He had just long enough to regret not being able to tell Grantaire that he loved him before he lost his battle with unconsciousness.

 

#

“He’s taking a long time to break up with Aiden,” Combeferre said in concern after they had finished watching _The Two Towers_.

“Knowing Enjolras, he probably wanted to analyze every detail of their relationship to understand where he went wrong,” Courfeyrac commented lightly. “What do you think made him realize he didn’t love Aiden.”

“I don’t know, but I for one am glad,” Combeferre said. “I never really trusted Aiden to take care of Enjolras.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “You don’t trust anyone to take care of Enjolras. None of us do. The man is brilliant and we’d follow him to the ends of the earth, but he’d starve to death if one of us weren’t around to make sure he ate. Aiden’s not one of us.”

“You’re probably right,” he replied with a sigh. “It’s hard to trust anyone else when we’ve been looking out for him since high school.”

“Well that’s not true,” Courfeyrac argued with a smirk. “I can think of about nine other people we’d trust off the top of my head who haven’t been around since high school. Speaking of, I have a theory.”

“Oh no,” he groaned in reply. Courfeyrac was famous for his off-the-wall theories.

“Hear me out. I’m not kidding this time,” he said.

“Nice to know that you’re usually kidding at least,” he mumbled. “Okay, what’s your theory?”

“Enjolras is in love with Grantaire,” he stated, beaming in pride.

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “What exactly makes you think that?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s obvious!” he cried. “They literally text _all the time_ , with Enjolras _smiling_ every time he looks down at his phone. Trust me, I’m his roommate. It’d be sickening if it weren’t so adorable. And his face lights up whenever he sees Grantaire. I swear, their arguments must be some sort of weird foreplay for him.”

“Okay, okay, that is enough!” Combeferre cried.

“You don’t think I’m right?” he asked, affronted.

“No, you make perfectly reasonable points. I just do not need to hear any reference to Enjolras and foreplay in the same sentence,” he replied, scrunching his nose up in distaste.

“So you think I’m right?” Courfeyrac said in excitement. “What do we do?”

“ _We_ don’t do anything,” he pointed out. “If Enjolras _does_ have feelings for Grantaire, _he_ is the one who needs to do something about them. And it seems like that is exactly what he is doing.”

Courfeyrac pouted. “But I want to help.”

“And that is very admirable,” he replied with a soft smile. “But this is something they need to sort out for themselves, _without_ any outside help.”

Courfeyrac huffed in displeasure. “Well, you want to watch _Return of the King_ as we wait for him and then pester him about what _he_ intends to do?”

Combeferre laughed. “That we can do.”

He cursed his heart for skipping a beat when Courfeyrac smiled brilliantly at him and put the DVD in before settling down close to him. Their thighs were pressed against each other’s and Combeferre nearly had a heart attack as Courfeyrac nonchalantly laid his head against his shoulder.

It was very hard to pay attention to the movie after that.

Of course, it got even harder as they both eyed the clock as the time ticked closer to 3 AM. Worry was clawing at Combeferre’s stomach. Enjolras had been gone for five hours. No matter how thorough he was in whatever post-break-up review he decided to have, five hours was a long time.

 “I’m worried, ‘Ferre,” Courfeyrac said finally as the clock ticked over to 3:22.

“Me too,” he agreed, pulling out his phone and dialing Enjolras’ number.

His heart stopped as a male voice answered that was decidedly _not_ Enjolras. “Hello?”

“Who is this?” he asked. “Where is Enjolras?”

“Is this his boyfriend?” the man asked in answer, confusing Combeferre even more.

“No, I’m his friend. Who are you?” he asked angrily.

“Sir, I need you to calm down. I’m Detective Davis with the Cambridge Police.”

“Oh God,” he choked, leaning heavily against Courfeyrac, who looked at him in wide-eyed concern.

“Sir, your friend is in a critical condition right now. He is currently in surgery. Can you come down to the hospital? We need some information from you.”

“Of course,” he replied faintly, grabbing Courfeyrac’s hand to anchor himself to reality. Oh God, this couldn’t be real. “What happened?”

“We have reason to believe your friend’s boyfriend assaulted him,” the detective answered as gently as possible.

“We’ll be there as soon as possible,” he said, not able to fully process that statement.

He hung up and looked at Courfeyrac. “Aiden put Enjolras in the hospital,” he heard himself say. “We need to get there.”

They just stared at each other in shock for half a second as they both processed what was going on before they were rushing to put shoes on and headed out the door.

#

He groaned as his phone rang and groped desperately at his nightstand to make it stop, silently vowing to murder Bahorel if he was calling to once more to drunkenly pine over Jehan. Jehan, at least, had the decency to only wax poetically about Bahorel to him at an appropriate hour.

“Hello?” he answered groggily, finally getting his fingers to cooperate and work the phone.

“Grantaire, we need to get to the hospital,” Jehan’s voice told him urgently. “Get dressed. I’m about five minutes from your apartment.”

“Jehan?” he asked, instantly awake and tumbling out of bed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Enjolras,” he replied, voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know any details, but I think it’s bad.”

A horrible sick feeling settled in his stomach, and he rushed to throw clothes on as he hung up the phone. He quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt before rushing outside to wait for Jehan. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to arrive.

“What do you know?” he asked frantically as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Not a lot,” he answered tightly. “Courfeyrac was a little hysterical when he called. Combeferre was still talking to the police. All I really got was that it was bad and that Enjolras was still in surgery and they weren’t… God,” he broke off with a little sob. “They aren’t sure if he’ll make it through.”

Grantaire felt as if he had been submerged in ice water. The very thought of Enjolras… He couldn’t think about that. Didn’t know how to mentally prepare himself for that kind of blow.

 _Please_ , he begged in any deity that was listening. _Please..._

The drive to the hospital went by in a blur. He barely remembered stumbling through the hallways and finding Courfeyrac sobbing in Combeferre’s chest. They were the first to arrive other than them.

“How is he?” Grantaire asked, only half-wanting to hear the answer because he wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Combeferre swallowed a couple of times before answering. “He made it through surgery okay. He’s stable for the moment, and they’re bringing him to the ICU. He had a broken rib that pierced his lung, and there was apparently some damage to his trachea. They’re hoping it won’t affect his ability to speech though. Those are the most serious things. He… he took a pretty bad beating…” Combeferre had to pause to compose himself. “There may be more, but they had to repair his lung first.”

He heard Jehan choke back a sob, but was unable to comfort the poet because he felt like he was about to pass out. God, Enjolras…

“What happened?” Jehan asked, voice thick with tears. “Was he mugged?”

“No,” Courfeyrac growled, pulling away from Combeferre to answer. “That bastard Aiden did this after Enjolras broke up with him.”

“What?” Grantaire cried, a red haze settling in front of his eyes. “I’m going to fucking _kill_ him,” he hissed, turning to leave but stopping as Combeferre grabbed his shoulder.

“Enjolras needs you here,” he said sternly. “Besides, the police will have him by now.”

“Fuck,” he cried softly, sagging against the wall, not knowing if he was cursing Aiden, the police, or the entire situation. “He has to be okay.”

“He will be,” Jehan soothed, pulling him into a comforting embrace. “He’s too stubborn to give up on us.”

#

There was an annoying beeping noise coming from nearby and disturbing his sleep. He didn’t know what Courfeyrac was doing, but he was certain it was far too early to be doing it. How did he get back to his dorm? The last thing he remembered was going over to Aiden’s place. Was he still there?

Aiden…

His eyes flew open as he remembered what had happened and immediately panicked as he choked around something that was shoved down his throat.

Alarms blared around him and he heard a voices rushing around us.

“Enjolras?” a soothing voice said near his head. His panicked eyes searched out the too-bright room and locked eyes with the woman who must’ve spoken. “You need to calm down. You’re okay. You’re in the hospital. We have a breathing tube down your throat. We are going to remove it but you need to be calm. Stop fighting the ventilator.”

He nodded as best as he could and tried to calm down, a feat that was difficult since he couldn’t breathe on his own. He felt a tugging sensation and suddenly he could breathe freely.

He coughed after the tube was removed, hands holding him down as his body tried to curl into itself.

“We need you to stay lying down,” the woman from earlier was saying. “You don’t want to jostle your ribs too much or aggravate your other injuries.”

“How long?” he rasped before a straw was placed at his lips. He greedily drank the cool water being offered to him, sighing in relief as it soothed his scratchy throat.

“You’ve been out for two days,” she explained. “You’re still in the ICU, but your friends have been here for a while and would like to see you if you’re up for it.”

“Grantaire,” he said immediately, not wanting to waste another minute. He remembered the horrible feeling he had before he blacked out when he realized he might never get the chance to let the other man know how he felt.

And considering how terrible he felt now, it wasn’t like the sting of rejection could hurt him much more.

She nodded. “I will send him back first.”

The few minutes between when she left and the privacy curtain was once again pushed back felt like ages. He didn’t know what he was going to say. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. He didn’t want Grantaire to feel obligated to return his feelings just because he was in the hospital.

He had almost worked himself into another panic before Grantaire dunked inside and carefully approached the bed.

He looked awful, as if he hadn’t slept in days, but he was also the most beautiful sight Enjolras had ever seen. He had thought he would never see the other man again. He couldn’t believe he was getting a second chance now.

“I love you,” he blurted out without thinking, cringing afterwards at the abrupt confession and Grantaire’s taken aback expression.

“What?”

“Sorry,” he said, worrying his bottom lip. “I just… needed you to know. I thought I was going to die, and I hated that I hadn’t told you before and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it and…”

He trailed off as Grantaire placed a gentle finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said, smiling with tears in his eyes. “Don’t apologize. God, Enjolras, I’ve loved you since I met you. I’m only sorry that you’re in this hospital bed right now. Jesus, that’s not why Aiden…?” he asked, horror dawning in his eyes.

“No,” he said, shaking his head softly as tears leaked from his eyes. He smiled as Grantaire’s thumb gently swept them away. “We didn’t really get to that part before he… well…”

Grantaire clenched his jaw. “He won’t get near you again. I promise.”

Enjolras frowned, thinking of Aiden as a continued threat for the first time since waking up. Aiden has said that their relationship wouldn’t be over until he said it was. Obviously he had no problem enforcing that statement.

“Hey,” Grantaire said, reading his thoughts on his face. “He won’t hurt you again. He’s in police custody right now, and they’re going to make sure he isn’t able to hurt you anymore.”

He took a shaky breath and nodded, grabbing Grantaire’s free hand tightly. “Stay with me?” he asked, not wanting to be alone.

“Everyone else wants to see you too,” Grantaire reminded gently.

“Okay, but… can you just stay? For a little? Please?” he asked, eyelids feeling heavy.

“I will stay here as long as you want,” he promised, leaning forward and brushing his lips lightly against Enjolras’. “Sleep.”

“Love you,” he said sleepily, needing to say it once more.

“I love you too.”

He smiled as he dozed off once more. He still was slightly afraid of what Aiden might do, but for now, he wasn’t going to worry about it. He was safe, and Grantaire loved him, and that was enough for now.

Fin.


End file.
